Two-three minutes passed.
Bang!
“It’s the stair trap,” Scoop cried in my ear. “The boy walked into it. Here he comes. On the run. Listen, Jerry! I’m going to follow him. I want to find out who he is. You wait here till I get back.”
He was gone before I could speak up.
A light had appeared in the mill. I could hear the soap man grumbling to himself as he came down the stairs. Holding the candle above his head, he pottered to the mill doorway and looked out.
“It’s them snoopy kids,” he muttered, and his face was dark and threatening in its expression. “I’m goin’ to lay it on them with a strap if they don’t mind me an’ keep away from here.”
He went back up the steps, resetting his trap, blowing out the candle when he got to the top floor.
The big clock in the college chapel tower donged ten times. Then, at fifteen-minute intervals, it donged the quarter hours.
Eleven o’clock! Scoop had been gone for more [[91]]than an hour. Where was he? Why didn’t he come back?
It was moonlight now. And with the cold white light had come a dampness that penetrated my sweater and set me to shivering. I pumped my arms to speed up my blood. I got warm after a few minutes. But I still shivered. It was my nerves.